1815, The Waterloo Campaign
Wellington, his German Allies and the Battles of Ligny and
Quatre Bras

By Peter Hofschröer

Review by the Marquess of
Anglesey

'The Marquess of Anglesey reviewed in Saturday 21st
February's Daily Telegraph (London) Peter Hofschröer's
1815, The Waterloo Campaign: Wellington, His German
Allies and the Battles of Ligny and Quatre Bras.

The headline to the review was 'Ducal deceptions in the
field' with the subhead 'The Marquess of Anglesey welcomes a
controversial study of the 19th century conflict.'

The review read:

'If a true history is written, what will become of the
reputation of half of those who have acquired reputation?"
Thus Wellington after Waterloo. Historians have ever since
been slaving away to produce the 'true history.' Peter
Hofschröer in this highly readable, erudite book, has
spent years on the quest.

He begins with a masterly account of the situation before
and after Napoleon's escape from Elba, and ends with the
defeat of the Prussians under Marshal Blücher at Ligny
and Wellington's holding engagment at Quatre Bras, both on
June 16. A second volume will deal with the great battle
which took place two days later.

In 1815 Hofschröer aims to counter the notion that
the Prussians played only a minor part in the campaign.
This, although not new, is salutary. What is more or less
new is the contention that the Duke conspired to deceive
Blücher into fighting under adverse conditions at
Ligny, so as to give him time to concentrate his own army.
This must remain controversial. After Ligny, the Prussian
generals blamed Wellington for not coming to their aid. Yet
he had promised to do so only "so long as I was not attacked
myself." Since he was attacked - at Quatre Bras - this
argument loses credence.

Further, the Duke did not know that, thanks to the
insubordinate behaviour of one corps commander, the
Prussians had only two-thirds of their troops on the field.
With the missing corps Blücher could well have held his
own at Ligny.

Again, late at night on June 15, and long after
Hofschröer maintains that Wellington ought to have
moved, Blücher himself was writing: "Tomorrow will
decide if Napoleon will turn against me or Wellington."

It is arguable that the Duke's caution was extreme. He
was surely right, though, to delay the movement of his
Anglo-Dutch-Hanoverian army until assured that the main
attack was the one at Ligny, and that Napoleon was not
manoeuvring to cut him off from the Channel ports. He may
well have failed to make this clear to Blücher.

There were other problems, including the language
difficulty and the terrible heat, which slowed down all
marching. Then there were the long-standing differences
between the two nations.

At the 1814 Congress of Vienna, Wellington had been as
suspicious of the Germans as they were of him. His abiding
concern was to maintain the European balance of power, thus
first to over-throw Napoleon and then to keep France strong.
The German object, on the other hand, as Hofschröer
revealingly says, was to seize Paris, make the French "pay
for their widespread destruction of Germany," and then
"expand westwards."

In spite of these opposing interests, in accusing the
Duke of intentional deception, Hofschröer protests
rather too much. Nevertheless, by deploying numerous, mostly
German, new sources, he performs an important historical
service.

Incidentally (and unwittingly) what he says of Wellington
actually magnifies his reputation. I look forward with glee
to the scholarly battles which must follow this book's
publication.'

"German historian Peter Hofschröer believes that
during the Waterloo campaign of 1815, Wellington deceived
his Prussian allies, forced them into bruising engagements
with Napoleon they could not win, and belittled their
efforts afterwards. Then he grabbed all the glory for
himself supported by dozens of sycophantic British
historians. After reading this deeply revisionist tract, you
will never again think of the Waterloo campaign as
essentially a Franco-British engagement, but you will
appreciate Wellington as a ruthless general concerned for
his own men first, and his allies very much second."

The Spectator (London) carried a long, two-page
review of 1815: The Waterloo Campaign - Wellington, His
German Allies and the Battles of Ligny and Quatre Bras
by Peter Hofschröer. The review is by Alan Mallinson
and he disagrees strongly with the author. To quote portions
of the review:

"In the preface to his offensive and deeply flawed book
he states, 'Every historian has an axe to grind.' His
admission that he himself is no exception is one of the
book's few indisputable claims... the brash certainty and
extent of Hofschroer's claims are singular... Modern British
accounts he writes off as shallow, superficial works that
repeat and embellish selected myths without bothering to
refer to the better accounts [presumably German] of
the campaign.

These strictures are at best disingenuous. Of modern
books he omits to mention, for instance, David
Hamilton-Williams's fine Waterloo, New Perspectives
(1993)

...Whether on discovering, in the Duke's own words, that
Bonaparte had 'humbugged' him, Wellington sought to conceal
his 'tardy' deployment is - at most - conjectural: all the
documents that Hofschroer cites are open to
interpretation.

...One of Hofschröer's problems seems to be that he
does not have any understanding - or feel - for the dynamics
of a large-scale military operation and for what Clausewitz
called friction.

The Duke had his faults. He was Fabius Maximus Cunctator
to the French's Hannibal. But the weight of military
responsibility he carried at that moment was enormous
(Hofschroer at least concedes, 'There was probably only one
commander in Europe who could make something out of this
seething bundle of contradictions and frictions'). On
Wellington's decision when and where to deploy the
Anglo-Dutch-German army rested the outcome of the campaign,
and the point needs constantly reinforcing. Herr
Hofschröer has spoiled what could have been a useful
account of the part played by the Prussians in the Waterloo
campaign by indulging in hindsight while grinding an
axe."

Response by Peter Hofschröerto the Mallinson review

Greenhill circulated the review in The Spectator
(London) of Peter Hofschroer's 1815: The Waterloo
Campaign: Wellington, his German Allies and the Battles of
Ligny and Quatre Bras.

Peter Hofschröer responded to the review but THE
SPECTATOR have not published his letter. Here is what he
said:

"May I take this opportunity of replying to Allan
Mallinson's review of my recently published book 1815:
The Waterloo Campaign (Greenhill Books).

As Col. Mallinson considers my book 'offensive and deeply
flawed,' perhaps it would help to examine the reasons he
gives for this. Firstly, he points out that I 'omit to
mention' a work written by the person who uses the pen name
'David Hamilton-Williams'. The reason for my omission is
quite simple - that person's work is questionable to say the
least. Doubt has been thrown both on its content and its
author's integrity in periodicals such as the 'Journal for
Army Historical Research', Napoleon', First Empire' and 'Age
of Napoleon,' to name but a few. Hamilton-Williams' case
against the Sibornes was answered and refuted, and indeed,
Colonel John Elting went so far as to describe
Hamilton-Williams' work as 'outright fraud.' His publisher,
Arms & Armour Press, ceased publishing his books once
this became public knowledge. Thus, I do not attach any
credence to Hamilton-Williams' work.

Secondly, Col. Mallinson also seems surprised that I
attach no weight to the works of Maurice and Robinson. Those
writers based their defence of the Duke of Wellington on one
document, the so-called 'De Lancey Disposition'. In this
document, supposedly written at 7a.m. on 16 June 1815, a
substantial part of Wellington's army is shown as 'marching
to Quatre Bras'. However, the record shows that Wellington
did not start to order any troops to Quatre Bras until after
11 a.m., and that the bulk of his army was not ordered on
that point until after the start of the battle at 2.30 p.m.
Clearly, De Lancey could not have written any 'disposition'
showing troop movements to Quatre Bras at 7 a.m. as
Wellington had yet to decide to move there. A disposition
cannot be written before the commander decides where to move
his army. Thus, I do not attach any weight to works that
give credence to this questionable 'Disposition.'

Col. Mallinson continues by challenging the accuracy of
my historical research. Let us take one example, my
calculations of the speeds at which mounted couriers moved.
He asks: 'Why should messages to Zieten's own
commander-in-chief, along an established and shorter
Prussian relay-route, travel at a significantly slower
speed?' The answer is quite simple. The road taken by the
courier to Wellington in Brussels was paved along its entire
length, whereas the road to Namur was not. Thus, the courier
to Wellington could ride faster. Reference to a
contemporaneous map, such as that by Ferrari, clearly shows
this. This map has been reprinted and is widely available,
particularly in the Waterloo Visitors Centre. Thus, my work
is based on solid historical fact.

So Col. Mallinson's complaint seems to be that I do not
base my work on discredited books or arguments that conflict
with the record and incorrect information. He is entitled to
regard this as 'offensive and deeply flawed', however, I beg
to differ."

"This is the most important book on the Waterloo campaign
written in many years and is an intensely researched account
of how Wellington came to be so bamboozled and of the almost
fatal consequences thereof."

"Since 1815 it has been an article of faith among German
historians that Wellington deceived Blücher during the
opening phase of the campaign, promising quick support that
was actually impossible because of the tardy concentration
of the British forces. So assured, Blücher stood to
fight at Ligny, got whipped and - except for d'Erlon's
inexplicable meandering - undoubtedly would have been
completely crushed, leaving Wellington with an unpleasant
assortment of alternatives including a nineteenth-century
Dunkirk."

"Almost all British historians have vehemently rejected
such imputations, the Duke's immaculate omniscience being a
basic article of their faith. American opinion has varied
but some, at least, of us have believed that, whether
inadvertently or intentionally, Wellington did mislead
Blücher as to when and in what strength British
reinforcements might reach him."

"Peter Hofschröer believes that this deception was
intentional, that Wellington deliberately risked sacrificing
Blücher in order to gain time for his own fumbled
concentration. He traces this Anglo-Prussian friction back
to the squabbling Congress of Vienna and Wellington's role
in the British effort to restrain Prussian territorial
rapacity, followed by - after Napoleon's return from Elba -
the two nations' competition in getting the contingents of
the smaller German states for their respective armies.
Hofschröer does not whitewash Prussia: the arrogant
stupidity with which Blücher and Gneisenau mishandled
the Saxon troops, the sloppy Prussian staff functioning and
the ramshackle state of the Prussian Army itself are
presented in detail."

"The opening moves of the campaign are traced in depth,
backed by exhaustive research and careful space-and-time
studies. A good many myths and alibis bite the dust. It
appears that the Allies were better informed of Napoleon's
concentration than has been previously realised, but that
Wellington badly misjudged Napoleon's probable strategy and,
though promptly warned of his advance, was slow to react. If
this version of Wellington seems less than omniscient,
remember that the Duke never was exactly a timidly soul, and
that a commander who could devastate his Portuguese ally's
territory to cover his retreat into the Lines of Torres
Verdes just might have been capable of considering
Blücher's army an expendable rear-guard."

"Serious students of the Hundred Days may disagree
entirely or in part - but they should first read this
book."